


Import-Export

by TheMuchTooMerryMaiden



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Graphic Descriptions of the Aftermath of Violence, Incomplete, James if he'd not grown up at Crevecoeur, Lewis Summer Challenge 2016, M/M, different first meeting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-13 15:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7981264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden/pseuds/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the worst crime scene that Robbie has ever seen, perhaps it was that, or being pulled off the case, but he was more than ready to take a chance...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've used the 'Graphic description of violence' tag, but it's not an 'in the moment' description, more a description of the scene afterwards, but be aware that it's fairly nasty.
> 
> Also note that this is the beginning of something I've been writing for ages and it may take me ages to finish it.
> 
> Also also, it is pretty explicit - you have been warned

Detective Inspector Robbie Lewis’ phone was ringing as he walked into the outer office, all in all as a way to start his day it was one he particularly disliked, it usually meant that he would spend the whole day playing catch up,

“DI Lewis … Where? … Right, I’ll be along soon as.”

_Bugger_ , he thought as he hung up the phone, _wish I’d made up m' mind about a bagman, ‘s always useful to have a second pair of eyes at this point_.

Turning back into the office he saw that DC Hooper was just settling to his desk,

“Don’t sit down, Alec, we’ve got a shout,” he said, “on the Meade Industrial Estate.”

 

When they got to the industrial estate it was obvious where they were heading, blue lights were whirling around over in the far corner of the site, clearly visible through the late autumn rain.

They were greeted at the perimeter set up by uniform by a distinctly unwell looking PC who wordlessly handed them each a paper scene-suit. Hooper not unusually pulled his face at the necessity for the thing,

“You really will want to put it on, I promise you,” the PC said in response. Robbie was fairly sure he didn’t like the sound of that. The two of them moved over towards the patrol car and carried out the usual uncoordinated staggering around that resulted from trying to put on a paper coverall when you had nowhere to sit. Once they were kitted out they moved towards the portacabin office in the corner of the yard.

There was always something familiar about a crime scene, in many respects they’re all the same, Robbie thought. A PC was stood at the bottom of the steps up to the office, clipboard in hand (some things never got more high-tech) ensuring that every person’s access to the scene was logged and documented,

“Sir,” the PC acknowledged him, “Alec, it’s a bit grim up there,” he said. When Robbie would have spoken Hooper beat him to it,

“You’re a bit soft aren’t you?” he said with a sneer in his voice. Before Robbie could speak

The body was all over the office of the small plastics firm, absolutely all over, except that when he looked more closely it wasn’t the body that was all over the office, it was just bits of the lower half of the body, the head and upper torso were leaning against the radiator underneath the window. When Robbie worked out what had happened he came closer to losing his breakfast than he had done since he was a very young PC at his first PM. Hooper, not known to be soft in this sort of situation had taken one look, gone very pale and excused himself, moving round the SOCOs taking huge numbers of photographs as he went. Robbie didn’t blame him. Behind him the door opened and Laura walked in, took one glance at him and began to speak,

“I can tell by your slightly green face that you’ve worked out what happened here?”

Robbie paled further,

“How long …” he swallowed, took a deep breath and swallowed again, “how long did he survive.”

“Sorry to say, I think he survived through most of it, until they got to the iliac artery probably but if it’s any consolation he was probably unconscious after they got much above the mid-thigh.”

“What on earth was it they used?” Robbie asked, his hand went up to smooth down his hair, something he knew he did when he was distressed and encountered the hood of his scene suit instead. Resolutely he brought his hand back down, looking enquiringly at Laura,

“Chain saw? Angle Grinder? I’ll know more when I can do some microscopic examinations of the remains. There’s a real chance you’ll find whatever it was before I can identify it.”

“I doubt that,” Robbie said, looking round the room again, “This must have been fairly carefully planned.”

“Yes,” Laura agreed, “planned for maximum impact.”

“Do you have any ID on him?” Robbie asked, “the car outside is registered to a Jonathan Nixon,”

Laura knelt down to the side of the body and felt the pockets of the man gingerly before pulling out a wallet from the deceased’s left hip pocket and passing it back to Robbie.

Robbie already had gloves on to go with his scene suit, but he still handled the wallet carefully, by edges to avoid disturbing any prints that might be on it. The first thing he found was a considerable amount of cash and then tucked at the back the card part of a drivers’ licence in the same name as the registered keeper of the BMW outside. Quickly he estimated the amount of cash, all in fifties as it was,

“There’s better than three grand here,” he said, “so the motive wasn’t robbery,”

Laura looked up at him sceptically,

“Did you really think it was going to be?” she asked gesturing around at the state of the room, “I think he’d have given up his wallet a bit quicker than this,” 

“Aye,” Robbie agreed, “this wasn’t just about killing him, was it, it’s got to be some sort warning off or some such, hasn’t it?”

She considered for a moment before replying

“I would say so.”

“Or I suppose they may have wanted information from him?”

Laura looked sceptical, 

“This goes way beyond ‘enhanced interrogation’, I’m more than sure he’d have told what he knew, do you have any idea how many nerve-endings there are in the feet? I think you were right the first time.”

Robbie ran his hand through his hair, forcing himself to look carefully at the state of the office. None of the filing cabinets were open, nor the desk drawers, nothing seemed to be have been disturbed but for the victim and the bits of the victim that were spread everywhere. An old joke about backing into the bacon slicer and being a bit behind with the rations came to Robbie’s mind. It was a stupid joke, not especially funny and particularly not in the current situation but Robbie still had to be careful not to end up laughing despite the horror of the situation. It was a common enough reaction, and provided there were no relatives about it was possibly better than, say, throwing up.

“So the … slices,” he began,

“Seem to have been placed around the room with some care,” Laura said, “right where he could see them.”

“But he wouldn’t have been looking, right? I mean he’s going to have been looking at whoever was doing this, wouldn’t you think?”

Laura thought for a moment,

“You could be right, he certainly wouldn’t have been taking much in for very long,”

“A ‘message’ for a family member, colleague, confederate,” Robbie said slowly before looking away from the body directly at Laura, “What d’ye reckon was the COD?”

“Take your pick really,” she replied, “Heart failure from either loss of blood or shock or both most likely, definitely won’t know until I do the PM, might not be able to be specific even after the PM, but it will most likely be one of those.”

“When will that be?” Robbie asked, knowing that it was a question that drove Laura mad,

“Well it’s not exactly going to be easy to even make sure we’ve got all of the body to examine,” she replied with a shrug, “best will in the world it will be tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Thanks, give us a ring when you’re starting will you, I think I want to be in on this one, but meanwhile, me and Hooper need to be contacting relatives and the like.”

“I’ve said it before,” Laura began as she opened up the case she was carrying and getting out evidence bags, “but even with all this I’d rather do my job than yours.”

Robbie could only nod.

 

Outside again Robbie could see Hooper leaning against the slightly rickety stairs up to the portacabin office. He was on the phone and Robbie could hear from Hooper’s side of the conversation that he was getting details of an address for Nixon.

“23 Railway Terrace?” Hooper said, “Who else is listed as living there? Mrs Janet Nixon.” There was a pause before Hooper continued, “Do you know if there are any kids?” Again a pause, “Shit, well, they’re going to have a good day aren’t they?” Hooper’s tone was a bit sharp and Robbie went down the steps concerned that he was going to have to intervene, it wasn’t the fault of the person who answered the phone, but Hooper seemed to have caught himself, “No, sorry, you know how it is it’s always worse when there’s kids.” Another, shorter pause before he continued, “Right, thanks for that I’ll pass the message on.”

Hooper turned towards Robbie as he put his phone away, plastering an alert look on his face where it didn’t fit, not for a bloke who at five years older than Robbie had only ever made it as far as DC. Robbie raised an enquiring eyebrow and Hooper filled him in on the details he’d just got. Robbie didn’t need to make a note of the address, he always remembered things like that, for just as long as they were needed for the current case.

“Right,” he said when Hooper had finished, “I’d better get over there,”

“Do you want me to come with?” Hooper asked. Robbie thought about Hooper’s propensity for saying precisely the wrong thing at the wrong time and shook his head,

“No, I’ll take a uniform with me to stay with the wife, you go back, organise an FLO and then start tracking the details of the business, OK?”

“Aye,” Hooper said, relief at not having to see the grieving relative almost making him smile, “I’ll see you back at the nick.”

He turned and walked away, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the crumpled raincoat he was wearing. Robbie stifled a sigh, it was too late to try and make the man smarten up either his ideas or himself, he’d retire a DC, and as far as Robbie could see, the sooner the better.

 

This was, Robbie Lewis felt the worst possible time for Innocent to be demanding a status report on his current investigation and so he tried to put her off,

“Sorry, ma’am, can it wait?”

“No, detective Inspector, it can’t, my office, now.”

He hung the phone up. _What’s got her knickers in a twist_ , he wondered, a quick run through what was happening in the case didn’t reveal to him anything that he had or hadn’t done that might irritate her so much that she treated him to his full rank. He stood up, unnecessarily straightened his mouse mat, and pulled his jacket off the back of his chair, shrugging it on as he walked to his office door, past the newly vacant desk and chair that had belonged to Ali before she’d decided to up sticks and join the Met.

 

When he got to Innocent’s office the door was ajar and she was stood looking out through the window, _definitely not a good sign_ , Robbie thought, checking his tie before he tapped at the door,

“Ma’am?”

“Come in, Robbie.”

Robbie walked in as his boss turned from the window. He could tell at a glance even if the earlier phone call hadn’t convinced him, that she was not happy,

“What’s happened, ma’am?” he asked.

“Nothing. Well not nothing. We’ve been told to drop the case.”

“What?” Robbie knew he was shouting and at her raised eyebrow he moderated his tone, “What? Drop it, that’s ridiculous, we’re close to breaking the thing, I know we are. Who says we’ve to drop it?”

“I can’t answer that question,” she replied, “and that’s undoubtedly enough for you to be able to narrow the possibilities down.”

Uninvited he slumped into the chair in front of Innocent’s desk,

“So it’s either Special Branch, MI5 or counter-terrorism.”

Innocent nodded.

“Can’t I just have another couple of days?” Robbie asked.

“Of course you can’t,” she snapped, “’every and all investigations to be dropped at once’.” She looked down at her desk and fiddled with a couple of paper clips for a moment or two before she looked directly at Robbie again, “Don’t mess about with this Robbie, I’m given to understand that this goes right to the top, don’t get any fancy ideas about any covert investigation, you do not want to get involved with these people. Am I making myself clear?”

“Aye, ma’am, as crystal.”

Robbie sighed as he stood up and turned to leave but Innocent spoke again,

“I’ve emailed you the details a couple of cold cases I’d like you to take a look at.”

“Right, ma’am.”

 

But of course it wasn’t as simple as that. Robbie went back to the office and quickly picked up the email that Innocent had sent to him and then went out into the outer office,

“Right lads and lasses, we’re officially off the case, it’s gone somewhere higher up than us and Innocent’s asked us to go through some cold cases, Hooper, Smith, take this list and go and get the files, somebody put fresh coffee on, it’s going to be a long day.

The lot of them, in pairs, spent the entire shift going through the files for the three cases Innocent had given them, looking for any ‘missing’ evidence they might still be able to recover, any witnesses who might remember something new, but truth be told, it was unlikely, these were very old cases and Robbie knew he wasn’t giving the one he was working on the concentration it deserved, he was still mentally turning over the last case, the one he was supposed to be leaving alone.

Over the next few days while you couldn’t have said that Robbie was still investigating the case neither could you have said, in truth, that he’d dropped it. When he had the opportunity he was asking questions and listening to small titbits of information that came his way. It was incredibly frustrating and that frustration was made worse by the fact that he still hadn’t decided on a sergeant to replace Ali, the four weeks without a ‘bagman’ had only served to show him that there was a reason why things tended to be organised that way, he had no one to discuss it with, together with the strangest, paranoid feeling that he was being watched.

All in all he was in a filthy mood by the Thursday night when he decided to drop into the Crown and Anchor on his way home from work. By the time he’d been at the bar for five minutes vaguely occupied with the menu Robbie was absolutely sure that he was being watched. He glanced round the room as casually as he could. _Ah, the tall blond at the far end of the bar_ , he decided, although the man wasn’t looking now.

Robbie took his drink to a table in the corner, one which gave him an unrestricted view of the younger man, _two can play this game_ , Robbie thought. Without staring he carefully surveyed the man, storing up details, deductions and suppositions.

Tall and slightly horse-faced were Robbie’s first thoughts before he began to take in detail. Poised was the word that next popped into his mind, he looked, not exactly dangerous but certainly like he had the confidence which comes from the secure knowledge that he could handle himself, deal with any situation which might arise. It was an attractive quality and Robbie could count at least three other people checking him out, two men and a woman. Robbie focused on his clothes and hair cut both not ostentatious, practical, almost certainly expensive, specifically designed almost not to attract attention, that was probably the case if his suspicions were correct; if you weren’t looking he would blend into the background, or he would have done, but being startlingly good looking wasn’t going to help him much there.

Robbie saw the younger man start to turn around and quickly picked up the menu on the table and studied it. He was aware of the motion from that corner of the bar but was still startled when a light, cultured voice said,

“May I sit down?”

Robbie pointedly gazed round the numerous empty seats before replying,

“Sure.”

Strangely the younger man did not immediately try to make conversation, instead he picked up the other copy of the menu and looked at it intently with an expression that grew more and more despairing. Eventually he cleared his throat and spoke,

“Are you a local?”

“Yeah, well I have been this last twenty-five years,” he smiled acknowledging his accent.

“You didn’t look much more enthusiastic about the menu than I am.” Robbie looked at him questioningly and he continued, “I saw you staring,” there was an infinitesimal pause, “at the menu just now.”

“I wasn’t the only one staring at the,” Robbie put in his own, much less infinitesimal pause and noted the brief grin from the man, “menu, was I?”

“No, but you’re the one who looked the most interesting.” The younger man smiled, “The blonde woman is, how can I put this, not my type,” his eyes flashed with humour at Robbie’s momentary blush, that was plain enough then, “and of the two guys, I reckon that one,” he minutely jerked his head to the left, “is a trip to casualty waiting to happen, very conflicted, looking to dominate, and the other one is married, tan-line on his finger and he keeps looking around to make sure no one’s seen him, not my scene.”

Robbie had no idea what to make of that but there was one obvious question,

“Oh, and I am?”

“Who knows?” There was a long pause before the younger man continued to speak, “Listen, this is going to sound strange but I’ll stand you dinner if you can put us on to a good, non-touristy local restaurant, what do you say?”

What Robbie nearly said was, well, in fifty-odd years I’ve never had a bloke try and pick me up in a bar before. What he actually said was,

“Why not? Are you driving?”

“No,”

“Well, I know a good place out on the Didcot road, if you don’t mind a short drive?”

“Sounds good, lead the way.”

Robbie was aware of the married one’s discomfited gaze as they walked past him to leave the pub and he looked over his shoulder at the younger man as they went through the door,

“I think you’ve just done terrible things to that bloke’s self-esteem!”

“I think you’re right!” and he gave a huge grin. Robbie was aware of a sudden wash of adrenaline and lust at that sight and tried, unsuccessfully, to clamp down on his wayward libido.

 

Robbie led the way to his car, parked as it was round the corner. Security minded, there was nothing obvious to identify his car as belonging to a police officer, but to anyone with a bit of nous, the radio and the large double rear-view mirror would be a giveaway. _Not that it matters_ , Robbie thought, _he knows I’m job if I’m any judge._

They got into the car and Robbie pulled away from the kerb,

“So, what are you doing in Oxford? Just the usual tourist stuff?” 

“No, I’m here for the Bodleian, I’m a student of theology – doing work on Julian of Norwich.”

“Ah, so this is where I demonstrate my stupidity by asking who he was, is it?”

“You know,” the younger man said, “I suspect you’re not even remotely stupid.”

“Thanks for that.”

“What do you do, then?”

Robbie made sure that he could clearly see the younger man’s face in the rear-view mirror before he replied,

“I’m a Detective Inspector with the Thames Valley Constabulary.” The reaction he got was almost but somehow not quite what he would have expected, a mouthed obscenity, a flush to the cheeks and a nervous smile. Acting, Robbie concluded, but acting of a high quality. For the first time Robbie wondered if he was doing something particularly stupid, but, he concluded, he could look after himself, and what the hell, it was more interesting than a microwave meal for one.

“Oh,” was his only verbal reply. Robbie allowed himself a laugh, deciding to play along,

“Your face! Worth a shilling of anyone’s money!” and Robbie laughed again, this time joined by the other man. “What’s your name?” he asked when they had both stopped laughing.

“James, or do you want all the hideous middle names and my date of birth, officer?”

“No, I’ll let you off this time, I’m Robbie.”

“It suits you,” he paused, swallowed and continued, “So, this is potentially uncomfortable.”

“What you mean you don’t make a habit of picking up policemen in bars?” Robbie asked.

“No, not a habit, certainly. What about you? Do you make it a habit to be picked up in bars?”

“Not really, no.”

Silence fell and for a while it appeared that neither of them could come up with anything to say. After a couple of moments Robbie turned into the car park for the restaurant,

“Still feel like eating?” he asked,

“If you do?” It was more a question than a statement. Robbie considered his answer, weighing the weirdness of the whole situation against the fact that James was undoubtedly bloody gorgeous and the slightly reckless mood he was in, finally answering,

“Right then.”

 

The meal was good, the wine excellent and the company was better; Robbie found himself amazed by how fast time could pass. It seemed like an age since Robbie had been out with someone who fancied him, not since Val. Once he’d thought about Val it occurred to him that perhaps he ought to feel guilty about this whole situation, but he dismissed the thought, they’d each of them told the other that if they died they shouldn’t be on their own forever, _doubt if this is exactly what she had in mind, but what the hell._

As the waiter brought coffee for both of them Robbie was aware of an increase in tension, and found himself confronting the question of what exactly it was that he wanted. He’d never considered himself to be completely straight, but he’d met Val and he’d looked no further. Then when Val died, despite what she’d said he hadn’t been looking for anything at all and here he was probably bisexual, but almost completely inexperienced, save for a few fumbling encounters in his misspent youth, seriously contemplating hooking up with a good looking, younger man. He picked up his coffee and looked up into James’ face. There was a clear question in his slightly raised eyebrow. Robbie caught himself looking down and stopped, instead choosing to meet James’ blue eyes, holding his gaze. James cleared his throat and licked his lips,

“So, do you want to come back to my hotel, or should I call a cab?”

“No,” Robbie replied, still meeting James’ eyes, “I can drop you off.” Robbie wondered what in the hell he was doing. He’d never even picked up a woman in a bar, and now here he was with this bloke who was so far out of his league he couldn’t see it in the distance. The sensible thing would be to just drop him off at his hotel, feel flattered at the interest and get on with his life. He looked down, suddenly confronted with the idea of yet again going back to his flat alone feeling such a strong surge of disappointment it almost brought tears to his eyes. He swallowed and picked up his coffee cup for want of something to do.

It seemed however that James wanted a bit of clarity,

“You’ll come up for a night cap?”

Robbie swallowed, changed his mind, decided to take a chance,

“That sounds great.”

 

Robbie was relieved that James didn’t seem to have to get his key from reception, the idea of standing around feeling … obvious had been part of the increasing nerves he’d been feeling as he drove them both back to Oxford. Now, stood by the lifts, James at his side, he was finely balanced between anxiety and an undeniable arousal. He risked a glance across at James only to find that he was doing the same thing. They exchanged a grin and then both looked forward at the lift doors again. After a moment more James spoke quietly without turning to face Robbie,

“It can just be a night-cap you know.”

Robbie was surprised at how disappointed he felt,

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

This time James did turn towards him, 

“No, it’s not what I want; I can’t really say what I want out here,”

He was definitely looking Robbie in the eye now, and they were both so focused on each other that when the lift doors opened they were startled,

“Shall we?” James asked,

“Yeah,” Robbie replied hoping that James knew he meant that to cover everything. Robbie had his answer as soon as the lift-doors closed on them both and James crowded him up against the side of the lift. Despite himself Robbie tensed up and then almost as quickly James was over the other side of the lift, and apparently red with embarrassment,

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I thought,”

Robbie interrupted him,

“No, you thought right, sorry, it’s just, I’m kinda new at this,” It was his turn to blush.

“But you do … want this?”

The lift doors opened as Robbie would have replied, and James stepped out before he could get the words out. He took a deep breath and followed James out of the lift and down the corridor. When they got to what was clearly James’ room James turned, standing to his full height and squaring his shoulders and asked the question again,

“Do you?”

Robbie thought quickly but carefully. This was by far the wildest thing he’d ever done or thought of doing. Any other night, any other person and he’d have politely declined, but somehow tonight he felt like taking a chance, so with butterflies in his stomach and a throat too dry to answer he nodded.

“Right, then,” James replied, and turned to open the door.

 

James moved rapidly into the room and switched on the lights before standing aside to let Robbie walk into the room. It wasn’t a huge room, but it seemed to Robbie that the bed was, king size at least, he mused, aware that he was focusing on that to avoid thinking about other things. When James spoke he was startled,

“Drink?” James asked again, stood by the small fridge.

It was on the tip of his tongue to comment how expensive mini-bar drinks were when he caught himself, but again, James seemed to know what he’d been about to say,

“It’s on expenses, whisky?”

“Thanks,” Robbie replied and then continued, “you seem to keep doing that, knowing what I’m going to say, am I really being that predictable?” There was more to the question, things Robbie wanted to know but almost feared to ask.

“Not predictable, no.” James said as he broke the seal on the miniature bottle, “And to answer your unspoken question, I honestly don’t make a habit of this.” He turned to hand the glass to Robbie, “I noticed you as soon as you came into the pub,” he continued, “you were very aware of your surroundings and you’d clearly noticed me noticing, and,” he paused, took a sip of his own drink and then finished his sentence, “you really are very attractive.”

“Give over! You could have had your pick in there,”

James interrupted,

“I did have my pick,” his voice was low and thick and his eyes were fixed on Robbie’s as he took a step nearer, so near that Robbie could feel the heat of his skin, removed the glass from his hand and put it down on the table, “You were my pick. Is that OK?” and with that he leaned just that little further and kissed Robbie. Robbie experienced a moment’s panic, before he lost track of everything except the feeling of being kissed, the feeling of strong hands caressing the side of his face, the slight rasp of stubble, the fleeting pressure of James’ tongue before he opened his lips and allowed James to deepen the kiss.

When James pulled back slightly, Robbie couldn’t stop his slight whimper of protest,

“I’m not going anywhere,” James said with a grin, “at least not for long, I just want to freshen up,”

“I suppose I should…”

James interrupted, 

“You’re fine as you are,” and then he took in Robbie’s sceptical look and stepped into his personal space again, his hand moving to the back of Robbie’s head and pulling his head back by his hair. Robbie only had time to wonder how he could have known that would make the kiss even better before James’ mouth was over his again and he lost track of the thought as James used his height to push him slightly off balance and his strength to pull him flush against his lean body. Robbie knew that his arousal would be obvious to James but hadn’t fully expected that James would be so hard for him, hard at the thought of him. Robbie moved his hips just a little so that he could feel James’ cock against his own. It was a heady feeling and Robbie allowed himself to wonder what James’ cock was going to look like, what it was going to feel like in his hand. When breathing became an issue, James pulled away only far enough to move from Robbie’s mouth and begin to suck and bite at Robbie’s bared neck, murmuring as he did, “I want you, I want you just as you are, exactly as you are.”

The words and the feeling of strength in the taught body against his own were almost too much for Robbie and a small part of himself was shocked at the answering, whimpering moan that was his only reply. James spoke again, “What do you want, Robbie?”

Robbie hadn’t fully considered this and the sudden question almost pulled him out of the moment until James bit more firmly on the junction of his neck and his shoulder before soothing the same place with his tongue and lips. Suddenly the knowledge that he would carry some of the marks James was making for days made Robbie reply truthfully, without giving a thought to caution,

“I want you to fuck me,” he whispered. James was clearly startled by his reply and Robbie felt suddenly sick, sure he’d misread the situation, as James stepped away, turning slightly away, “Sorry,” he began to apologise, “I … thought that’s what we were talking about, sorry,”

James interrupted,

“Is that what you really want?” he asked, “Or just what you think I want to hear? You said you were kind of new at this, shouldn’t we start, I don’t know, more gently?”

Robbie thought for a moment, deciding whether to take the ‘get-out’ that James was clearly offering him. “One of the only advantages to getting older,” Robbie replied, aware that he was still breathing heavily and not caring, “is that you’ve more often worked out what you want and don’t want. I am … inexperienced, and if I read the way you kissed me wrong I’m sorry, but what I want is for you to fuck me. Now if that’s not what you want that’s OK, there’s lots of other things we could do, but you did ask.” The expression on James’ face would have been comical in any other situation, desire warring with caution, lust with uncertainty, Robbie spoke again, trying to ease James’ worries, “Look, I know it’ll probably hurt but I’ve always known I wanted this and I think you do too.” He moved back towards James and took his James’ face in his hands, “What do you want?” he asked,

“You, god help me, I want what you want, if you’re sure.”

“I really am,” Robbie confirmed. James stood up straighter and as Robbie’s hands dropped from his face reached for Robbie’s hips and pulled him closer before his hands slipped down and grabbed Robbie’s arse, grinding into him before he ducked his head for another kiss. Robbie let it all go, all his tension, all his nerves and just surrendered. James groaned and his hands moved further down Robbie’s neck to his shoulders and pushed him away slightly,

“I’ll be back,” his lips met Robbie’s again briefly, “in a moment,” and with that he pushed Robbie away completely and walked to the bathroom.

Robbie was achingly hard and his hands were moving to undo his trousers when he was suddenly confronted by the comparison between what he was going to look like with no clothes on and what James was going to look like and despite himself his shoulders slumped as he wondered what he was thinking of. He slumped further, dropping to sit on the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. Briefly he wondered if he wouldn’t be better just legging it, it wasn’t like he’d ever see James again most likely, but he found he couldn’t like the idea for any number of reasons the most important of which was that it seemed unkind. So he continued to sit where he was, refusing even to look round when James came out of the bathroom.

“Are you OK?” James asked and when Robbie couldn’t think what the right answer to that was and therefore didn’t reply James spoke again, “Crisis of confidence?” At this, Robbie did look round wanting to know if James was making fun of him. The sight took his breath away, James had taken a shower and was ‘wearing’ a towel that was doing precisely nothing to hide his arousal, in fact it was making it more obvious and despite his nerves Robbie could feel his own body responding in kind. What he didn’t expect was a look of kindness and of understanding. “You know,” James said, walking round the bed, “I don’t want to sound conceited or anything but there were at least two other people I could have approached that wouldn’t have said no, and that was just in the one pub. I chose you, I’m hard for you, I’m leaking at the thought of you, I want you. Right at this moment what I want to do is undress you, lay you down and do everything I can to make this a wonderful experience for you. Will you let me?” Robbie took a deep breath and nodded and when James held out his hand he took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and then further until he was flush against James’ chest. James held him for a moment and in that time Robbie took in what James had said and decided why not,

“I don’t know about ‘let you’,” Robbie replied, pausing to suck at James’ collar bone, “but that’s what I want.” He was inordinately glad that he managed not to finish with ‘if you’re sure’.

“Good,” James breathed and his hands moved to Robbie’s shirt buttons as he began to undress him, taking his time and with a slight smirk that made Robbie realise that he was being slow on purpose. It suddenly seemed to Robbie that it was a point of principle that he shouldn’t let how tantalising he was finding this. That lasted right until James pushed his shirt slowly off his shoulders and Robbie made an abortive attempt to cover himself but James’ hands sprang back to Robbie’s arms holding them still, “Don’t,” he said, “I want to see you, I want to see the years on you, all the time you’ve waited, I want to feel how lucky I am to be the one you chose.”

Robbie almost wanted to protest at that but then James’ hands stroked down his arms and went to his waistband and all Robbie could think of was those long slender fingers touching him and suddenly he didn’t give a damn, he wanted this. As James reached to push his trousers and underpants down he reached forward himself to pull at the towel round James’ hips. 

Robbie half expected that the sight of James full, hard cock would make him nervous but it didn’t, it just made him ache to be touched and to touch. He reached out but then stilled his hands inches away from James. He looked up to see James smiling,

“Please don’t stop,” he said. Robbie moved the last few inches and wrapped his hand round James’ shaft. This much he’d done before, but still in this atmosphere it was more, and the low moan that James gave as Robbie stroked firmly upwards gave him the confidence to look up and meet James’ eyes, to take in the sight of him biting his lower lip. It gave him the confidence to speak as he continued,

“You’re just as … gorgeous as I would have thought. You’ve no idea how good it feels to stroke you and know how much you’re going to make me feel this.”

James groaned again and then finished pushing Robbie’s pants down, before replying,

“Yes I am,” his words were almost harsh, his desire clear in the words and the tone. James put one still damp foot on Robbie’s trousers pooled round his ankles and Robbie took the hint and stepped out of them. James surged forward and pulled Robbie towards him bringing their bodies into full contact for the first time. It seemed to Robbie that but for James’ hand at the small of his back his knees would have buckled as it was James walked him backwards to the bed, but Robbie drew the line at being manhandled onto the bed and reached behind him to move the bedspread and pulled James after him as he lay down.

James clambered over the top of him, knees either side of Robbie’s hips, hands either side of his head. He ducked down and grabbed a kiss and then proceeded to leave sucking, kisses in a trail down Robbie’s body until he was kissing the very tip of Robbie’s cock.

“Give over,” Robbie gasped, “I won’t last the minute out if you keep that up.”

James looked up and grinned, and then bent his head back down, leaving Robbie’s cock, sucking quickly at his scrotum before his lips were pressing just behind Robbie’s balls.

“Fuck!” Robbie breathed, unable to stop himself squirming, but James continued whilst at the same time pushing his fingers between Robbie’s buttocks so that his finger-tips just brushed against the tight ring of muscle. Robbie felt like his heart had stopped, he wanted this so much, but more than that he realised he wanted James. 

James continued to tease him with mouth and fingers. Even if he’d tried Robbie couldn’t have stayed still under the sensation, as it was he was grasping handfuls of the sheets to avoid grabbing handfuls of James. Eventually James leaned back away from Robbie and then got up. Robbie watched him finely balanced between bemusement and anticipation when he got a good look at James.

“How do you want to do this?” James asked, “Hands and knees might be the most comfortable,”

“No,” Robbie interrupted him, “I want to be able to see you.” James looked dubiously at him, but Robbie continued, “I want to feel it, I want to see you,” he swallowed, “unless hands and knees would be better for you?”

“No,” James replied, “it wouldn’t.” James still looked hesitant for a moment and Robbie knew that he had to say something,

“I don’t really have the right words,” he began and found that he couldn’t quite stand to meet James’ eyes, “but when I was a lad, I fantasised so often about this, not that I ever conjured up someone as bloody devastating as you, but, I wanted someone big and strong to just take me,” he swallowed again and looked up into James’ face, “please?” There was a moment’s pause before Robbie could see the moment that James gave way to his lust. James walked round the bed and pulled condoms and a small bottle out of the bedside cabinet. Robbie watched in fascination, somehow the practicalities of the situation made it all seem that bit more real; he was actually doing this. James made short work of putting on the condom and then of coating himself liberally with lube. Robbie couldn’t help the soft sound he made when James also coated his fingers and then walked to the foot of the bed,

“Right,” James said, “put one of your legs up on my shoulder,” it took a moment but Robbie managed, “and the other round my waist? Is that OK?”

“More than,” Robbie managed to say before he was completely distracted by the sight of James staring at his arse with such obvious desire. After a couple of seconds James seemed to come to himself and he looked up as his hand slid slowly down Robbie’s thigh to rest on his cock, stroking gently a couple of times. The slickness was almost more than he could stand and Robbie held his breath, only releasing it as James gently pushed one finger inside him. It hurt and it was wonderful and Robbie both sighed and lifted his other leg slightly, “Don’t treat me like I’m delicate,” he encouraged, but James withdrew his hand,

“I’m not,” he said, “but you said you wanted to be fucked. If I’m doing the fucking then we do it my way, OK?”

Robbie swallowed, suddenly feeling his vulnerability, his abandon. He nodded, 

“I just wanted you to know how much I wanted this,”

“I know, and I promise you it won’t be gentle.”

That said, James continued to use his fingers to explore Robbie’s body and after a few moments Robbie realised just how much James had taken notice of what he’d said, James was always pushing for more, keeping Robbie constantly on the fine edge of burn and stretch, working his way deeper sometimes and spreading Robbie more widely at others. Robbie couldn’t keep quiet anymore and he groaned as James worked three fingers into him, whimpering as James spread the fingers apart against the inward pull of Robbie’s muscles. Robbie could see sweat glistening on James’ forehead and he knew how much James wanted this. Robbie squirmed around James’ hand wanting more but James put his other hand firmly on Robbie’s stomach and stared into his eyes, not forcing Robbie to lie still but making it very clear that was what he wanted. The command, wordlessly given thrilled Robbie and he was determined not to move until that was what James wanted.

James smiled briefly before he spoke, his eyes moving downward to where his other hand was still thrusting into Robbie,

“Some time,” James said, the dark flash of his eyes belying the calmness of his tone, “I’d like to fist you, spread you wider and wider, hear you whimper.” Robbie would have replied but at that point James flexed his fingers across Robbie’s prostate and all he could do was moan James’ name, “That’s what you want isn’t it? The feel of me inside you, my cock pressing into you, rubbing backwards and forwards across you. The weight of me pinning you down, you underneath me as I pound into you again and again and again. You want to be able to feel this for days don’t you? Well you will be able to, you won’t be able think about anything else every time you move,”

“Yes!” Robbie replied, his voice loud and whining in his own ears, “Please! Please, fuck me, James fuck me!”

“If you insist,” James replied and without warning he pulled his fingers out of Robbie and suddenly Robbie could feel the tip of James’ cock against him just for a second before James pushed into him. It was much more than the fingers had been and the tiny rational part of Robbie knew that was intentional, but as James pushed in all rationality went and Robbie just gave himself over to the sensation of being stretched by another man’s cock. It did hurt but that didn’t matter what mattered was the intimacy of the act, the look of concentration on James’ face, the feeling of fullness. The feeling of being taken.

It seemed to take James an age to push all the way into him and all the time his gaze was on where their two bodies were joining,

“Fuck, that’s fucking gorgeous, watching you stretch round me, knowing my cock is the first you’ve felt, I’m going to make you fucking well scream,”

Robbie wanted to answer, wanted to be sure that James knew that was what Robbie wanted as well, but all he managed was a groan as James paused, finally looking up at him,

“Are you OK?” James asked,

“God, yes,” Robbie answered before he groaned as James flexed his hips ever so slightly, pushed in just a little more. That was clearly the reaction James was after, if his expression was anything to go by, a fierce grin, full of desire and lust,

“Hang on,” James continued and he began to slowly thrust into Robbie over and over, never going deeper than the first time. Each thrust seemed to Robbie to take away more and more of the pain and leave behind more and more desire. At first Robbie tried to keep quiet but that couldn’t last and before long both of them were moaning with each thrust, but Robbie found that he wanted more,

“Stop a minute,” he said and then continued quickly when he saw James’ expression, “No! I don’t want you to stop, I want more of you … if I put both legs up, you could go deeper?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to hurt you,”

“You won’t.”

James withdrew, and Robbie swung his other leg up, enjoying James enjoying the view. James noticed,

“It’s a shame you can’t see this view,” James said, his lustful smile back, “your hole just waiting for me. You just waiting for me. You’re just a little bit stretched out, but I can see you beginning to close up again, you’re so tight, fuck, I want you so much,” James murmured before he lined himself up and thrust fully into Robbie.

It wasn’t gentle and it was much deeper and it was painful and it was wonderful. When James fully gave way to his desire and leaned fully over Robbie pinning him to the bed his shoulders pushing Robbie’s legs closer still to his chest as he thrust over and over again, it seemed to Robbie that it was just about perfect and then James slightly changed his angle and Robbie realised that it hadn’t been perfect until then and his groans became moans and gasps of encouragement.

Robbie could tell that James was getting close and he spread his legs even further,

“Come for me, bonny lad,” he gasped out, “I want to feel you come inside me, harder, oh, god, yes, that, harder!” James came thrusting a few more times and almost crying out and for a moment letting his full weight rest on Robbie. Pinned to the bed by James’ cock and his weight felt to Robbie like where he’d been supposed to be forever and he grabbed hold of James when he began to move, only to have his hand batted away,

“No,” James said, “let me go, it’s your turn now,”

“You don’t need to,” Robbie said,

“I want to. Can you hold onto your knees again?” he asked and Robbie did so, wondering what James had in mind.

James stood up and moved back, his eyes focused again on Robbie’s arse, so that it was a surprise when he leaned forward and pulled Robbie’s cock down slightly sliding a condom deftly over the hard flesh before taking as much of it as he could into his mouth.

Robbie was startled and for a moment he pushed himself up on his elbows to look at James, wondering, until James roughly thrust his fingers inside Robbie, unerringly finding what Robbie assumed was his prostate and massaging in time with his repeated suction.

Robbie lost all ability to form coherent thoughts, the sensations were just too much for him and all he could do was to lie there and breathe James’ name over and over again until he came suddenly and hard without even a thought of warning James. And James continued, rubbing and sucking until Robbie tried to protest, only really managing a pre-verbal noise. James did stop though, apparently he understood ‘thoroughly shagged out’ even if he didn’t speak it, and as he crawled up the bed to flop down next to Robbie, he had a definite self-satisfied smirk on his face,

“So,” James said, still a little breathless, “was that what you had in mind?”

Robbie tried to frame an answer. Coherent thought wasn’t easy and he thought perhaps that he should try to be ‘cool’ about it all, but he didn’t seem to have the brain power for it. After all he’d probably never see the bloke again, so it didn’t matter if he was honest (although the thought of not seeing him again was … uncomfortable),

“God, yes,” he was startled to realise that he was struggling just a little with tears, “it was everything I’ve wanted. Thank you.”

Robbie chanced a sidelong look at James, to find that James was doing the same thing and had an expression on his face, for a second, that Robbie couldn’t work out,

“You have no need to thank me, you know,” James said, “I hope you know this all was entirely mutual.”

“Well,” Robbie said looking away so that he was staring straight up at the ceiling, “I hoped so, but I realise that I really know nothing,”

James interrupted,

“I know you’ve no reason to believe me but this isn’t something I do every night, I really just did like the look of you.” He paused and Robbie had no clue what to say to any of this and the pause drew out until James sat up slightly, “Err, you will stay, won’t you? No, sorry, probably not, you probably have things to get back to,”

“Hush,” Robbie said, “I don’t have a cat to feed, and do you really think I’d have done this if there was someone waiting at home?”

It was a genuine question and Robbie waited for the answer,

“No,” James said slowly, “no, I don’t think you would, you don’t strike me as that kind of person. We should probably get cleaned up,” he continued sitting up fully, “fancy sharing a shower?”

Robbie thought for a moment,

“I do, but, I’m no spring chicken, it’ll just be a shower,”

“How young do you think I am?” James asked with a smile and it was on the tip of Robbie’s tongue to answer ‘too bloody young,’ but he resisted. James got up and offered Robbie a hand to pull him up. Unaccountably the thought of what that hand had done to him made him feel not exactly embarrassed but certainly conscious. Of course, James picked up on this, “Don’t feel like that,” James said, looking at Robbie with a strange intensity, “No regrets, eh?”

Robbie thought for a moment before he answered,

“No, no regrets,” and he got up and followed James into the bathroom.

As Robbie was dropping off to sleep he suddenly remembered what James had said about the drinks in the minibar but by the time he woke up in the morning it had gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, I'd really like to finish this but be warned it may take some time!

Robbie was undeniably sore as he sat down in the driver’s seat, buckling his seatbelt he couldn’t categorise how he was feeling and there was no denying that he would have felt better if James and he had made some plans but he also knew that wasn’t how many gay men operated. _Is that what I am_ , he wondered, _a gay man? No,_ he thought, _bi at best and still hopelessly traditional_. James hadn’t lit a flame, Robbie wasn’t suddenly going to be using Grindr any time soon, he was – last night notwithstanding – no fonder of the idea of casual gay sex than he was of casual straight sex. So he thought, at least there was last night, a one off, and if that left him feeling strangely melancholy and the marks James had left and the soreness left him feeling randy, well, he was a grown up and he’d live with it.

 

The cold cases stubbornly continued to be just that, the odd loose end that his team found had all turned out to be issues of filing rather that actually anything worth looking at again, towards the end of the day Robbie stood, picked up his jacket and walked into the outer office,

“Anyone got anything?” he asked, and was met with shrugs and sighs, “Right then, I’ll tell Innocent there’s nothing to them. Keep at it until I’m back.”

Surprisingly Innocent was free to see him and he even got a brief smile as he walked into her office before he expression turned to one of concern,

“Are you all right?” she asked and Robbie realised that he might not have been hiding his aches and pains quite as well as he thought. He flushed,

“Oh, it’s just mi back again, sorry ma’am,”

“No need to apologise,” she said, still looking at him. Robbie knew that he was blushing more deeply still and he had to fight to keep his hands by his sides instead of demonstrating any defensive body language, “get yourself to a doctor if it doesn’t get any better or I’ll set Dr Hobson on you!”

Robbie managed a smile but the thought of the conclusions Laura would draw from his ‘injuries’ didn’t bear thinking about. 

“I just came in to say we can’t find anything new to look at in those cases, we could redo some of the interviews but I don’t think it would help.”

“No, probably not,” she agreed, “next case that come in is yours,” she finished. Robbie took a deep breath about to ask her about the JKL Industries case but it seemed that she was ahead of him, “And no, there’s nothing new about the business at the industrial estate and I wouldn’t tell you if there were. Just leave it.”

Robbie bit down his frustration,

“Right you are, ma’am,” he replied.

 

Robbie and the team wrapped up their work on the cold cases that afternoon and for once had a slightly early finish which left Robbie standing by his car at five o’clock not wanting to acknowledge even to himself that he was thinking about James. He really didn’t know what to do. Common sense told him to go home, write last night off as a one off regression to his misspent youth, and get an early night. But the top and sides of it was that he didn’t want to. He wanted to go back to the Crown and Anchor and see if James was there. He knew it was a bloody awful idea, the most likely result of which was embarrassment and that only if he was lucky.

“Were you thinking of the Crown and Anchor again?”

James’ voice startled him, but that was followed very quickly by something that Robbie would almost have called relief. He didn’t even think to tone down his grin as he turned towards James to see an answering smile,

“How on earth did you find me?” he asked,

“Googled up a list of ‘police stations in Oxford’ and rang both of them up and asked to speak to you. Cowley denied all knowledge of you, here they asked what it was concerning, so I walked down here.”

“You were lucky,” Robbie said, still smiling broadly, “I’m not usually out on time.”

“Yes,” James said, his expression becoming more serious, “I was, but I’d have waited anyway.”

Robbie couldn’t help reading a double meaning into James’ words, and he wanted to say that he was the lucky one but he found it impossible and settled for a more practical answer,

“Aye, loitering outside a police station, especially the car park, surprised no one tried to move you on.”

“Oh,” James replied, the smile back at least faintly, “I was very stealthy. So, Crown and Anchor?”

Robbie almost absent-mindedly locked the car before he replied,

“Neither of us really liked the sound of the food,”

“There’s always room service,” James said, looking at Robbie with his eyebrows raised in what was clearly a question.

Robbie was surprised and if he was honest more than a little flattered he hadn’t really let himself hope that James would want more than just last night. He clamped down on an almost unconscious urge to stand taller and square his shoulders, to flatten his hair and straighten his tie, but now he had to make a decision and it wasn’t at all obvious to him what he should do.

James clearly read at least some of this despite Robbie’s best efforts,

“Look, let’s just go for a drink in the hotel bar,” he looked down for a moment and then he took a deep breath and looked Robbie directly in the eye, “I didn’t like the way we left things this morning, I didn’t know what to say that wasn’t going to sound pathetic and because of that I didn’t say anything even though I wanted to and I’m going to shut up now, but will you come for a drink?”

What James said so closely mirrored what Robbie had been thinking that he didn’t really have to think what to do, he just tucked his keys into his jacket pocket and ended up walking in step with James towards James’ hotel.

 

“What will you have?” James asked as they walked into the bar. Robbie thought for a moment,

“Pint of bitter, thanks,” James raised an eyebrow and Robbie smiled, “Even after last night I don’t think I’m ready for a cosmopolitan!” James grinned in response and Robbie moved over to find them a table. He settled for one in a quiet corner, it was still early so he’d had his pick, and he tried not to think why he’d made that choice, because, honestly, he had no clue what he wanted to happen this evening. It would be far easier if the two of them just chatted and went their separate ways, but Robbie was honest enough with himself to admit that he would be disappointed if that did happen. Where did that leave him, though?

“Penny for them?” James said and Robbie jumped slightly,

“Pretty sure they’re not worth a penny!” Robbie replied, with a smile, shifting over slightly to give James more room.

“I bet they are,” James replied putting the drinks down, but he didn’t push, “You were finished earlier than I’d have thought.”

“My team’s between cases, good news for the people of Oxford,” Robbie replied, wondering how long James had been waiting or would have carried on waiting,

“How so?” James asked taking a sip of his beer.

“We’re serious cases, it’s always bad news for someone if we’re involved.”

“So, murders and similar?”

“Yeah, but I think this is where we start getting into the territory of things I shouldn’t discuss out of work.”

“No, I suppose not,” James replied and then after a second, “good news for me too.”

Robbie couldn’t have argued that wasn’t a flattering reaction and he smiled in return, suddenly not really caring what interpretation James put on the smile, life was considerably too short to second guess the whole thing,

“Good news for both of us, I hope.”

James’ answering grin was confirmation enough,

“But first we should eat,” James continued, “got to keep our strengths up. I have all sorts of things in mind for after our meal.”

“The restaurant, then?” Robbie asked, “Room service might be too distracting.”

“Now?”

“Why not?

 

They talked over their meal in a way that they hadn’t taken the time to the night before. Robbie found himself talking about Val and about Lynn and even Mark. It wasn’t just him speaking though, before long Robbie had learned that James had been at Cambridge and studied theology,

“So what do you do with a First in theology?” Robbie asked,

“I never said I got a First,” James said, looking slightly suspicious,

“No you didn’t, did you, but I’d be willing to bet on it.”

“Why?” James asked,

“You’re clearly intelligent, you’re still doing research, so you got a good enough degree that you’d be taken on for further study, you have an attention to detail that I’ll just bet is the same in everything you do. So, am I right?”

“It’s easy to see why you’re a detective,” James replied with a smile, “To answer your question what I intended to do with a First,” he acknowledged Robbie with a nod, “was join the priesthood.”

James paused, clearly expecting a reaction. Robbie picked up his drink and took a sip,

“Aye,” he said, “I can see you as a priest.”

“Not many people say that,” James replied.

“You’ve got an … ascetic … thing going on, I can picture you in vestments,” Robbie stopped speaking when he saw James blush and look away. He reached out and gently wrapped his hand round James’, “Sorry, lad, I wasn’t taking the piss,” he didn’t add quite how much his mental image of James in clerical garb was affecting him,

James looked up and smiled slightly crookedly and Robbie was happy to see it was genuine,

“You’d be the first not to. In my line of work having any sort of religious conviction is looked down on.”

“Stops you being impartial?” Robbie asked, 

“Something like that. People assume you’re going to try to convert them, or tell them they’re going to Hell if they don’t mend their ways. I’m not, incidentally,”

“Not what?”

“Going to tell you that you’re going to Hell and no it wasn’t my sexuality that stopped me actually becoming a priest if you were wondering, it wouldn’t really have mattered if I’d been a straight celibate or a queer celibate, the effect would have been the same.”

“I suppose so,” Robbie said, 

“No, I just realised that I probably couldn’t take it quite as seriously as people would want, I believe it all, but surely it should be a happier thing?”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Robbie answered with a smile, “there’s not enough joy and happiness in this world, I’m sure of that.”

“Speaking of which,” James said with a smirk, “do you want desert, or shall we go up to my room?”

 

They went at things more slowly but much more definitely than the night before. James seemed determined that Robbie wouldn’t have time to let his doubts attack him again but Robbie was certain that they wouldn’t have done. As it was James pushed him up against the wall as soon as they were both in the room, kissing Robbie and gently nudging at his leg until Robbie widened his stance and James could slide one of his legs between Robbie and rub against his increasing arousal.

Robbie knew he was getting carried away, he’d missed this feeling, the feeling that he could arouse someone, that they could arouse him; that passion had gone out of his life that cold day in December and he hadn’t expected to get it back, hadn’t even been looking for it.

When Robbie’s phone went he didn’t recognise it for a few moments, and when he did realise what the noise was he swore,

“Shit! I’ll have to get that,”

“Really?” James asked before going back to kissing Robbie,

“Really,” Robbie replied, “it’s work,” he stole one more kiss before pushing James away and retrieving his jacket to get his phone from the pocket.

“Bad news for someone?” James asked,

“Probably,” Robbie replied before directing his attention to the call, “Lewis … Where? Is Doctor Hobson already there? … Call Alec Hooper and tell him to meet me … no, you’re right, he won’t like it but it’s our turn … I’m not far away, tell him he’s got fifteen, make it twenty minutes.” He ended the call, “Sorry, I’ll have to go, dead body, probably a drugs overdose but they’re all a murder until there’s reason to think otherwise.” Robbie suddenly found that he couldn’t meet James’ eyes and busied himself with the removal of imaginary lint from his jacket.

“Don’t worry about it,” James replied, but when Robbie looked back to him it was to find James also looking faintly uneasy,

“The timing’s awful,” Robbie said, “part of me wants to play it cool, but,” he swallowed, “if I’m done at anything like a sensible time should I come back?”

“God, yes!” James replied and reached out to pull Robbie into another kiss.

 

Robbie pulled his car round onto the waste ground around the viaduct, it was easy to spot the scene, someone, uniform or Scene of Crime, had set up halogen floodlights and the whole thing was a little patch of day light in the wide, wide night. It was distressing to realise that he had no idea how many of these he’d attended over the years, it was certainly far too many for him to keep track of. Some family’s bloody tragedy and they weren’t even distinct in his memory, it was such a waste he thought as he approached the lighted area.

He could see Dr Hobson hunkered down next to the body and he went towards her. She looked up at him as he got closer,

“Ah! Inspector Lewis,” she said with a tight smile, “we always meet in such wonderful circumstances!”

“Don’t we, though? What can you tell me?”

“Not a lot at the moment, if I had to bet I’d say it was an OD, judging by his arms he’s an habitual user, she turned over the bloke’s arm and even in this light Robbie could clearly see the track marks. Laura forestalled his next question, “Don’t ask me of what, won’t know until tox is back, but probably heroin. There’s nothing to suggest that there was anyone else involved.”

Robbie looked down at the body.

“Nothing except the fact that he’s out here in the open and not actually under cover, people don’t usually shoot up in the middle of a patch of spare ground when there’s a perfectly good bit of masonry to hide under,” he said gesturing at the viaduct before he continued, “Any ID?” 

“Nothing that I’ve found, sorry. What I meant was he hasn’t been apparently dragged here, no tracks, and there’s no sign of a struggle,”

“Aye, I know that’s what you meant,” he sighed looking around, “Not going to be easy, then. Do you know who found him?” Laura gestured towards where Hooper was stood with a bloke who was shifting nervously from foot to foot. “Has he given any idea what he was doing down here?”

Laura gave him a blank stare for a moment,

“I’ll find out what the dead have to tell us,” she replied, “information from the living is your problem, but I’m sure we could both guess.”

She was right, they probably could both guess, the shelter of the arches was used by all manner of people for illicit or illegal purposes.

Robbie turned from Laura and walked towards the nervous witness. To judge by first sight he was a bloke of about Robbie’s own age, taller, slimmer, more ‘turned out’ than Robbie managed, sorting through the possibilities for why he was down here, Robbie moved looking for a pick up above looking for a fix. Not precisely illegal, definitely illicit. Robbie was inclined to give him the very slight benefit of the doubt, he’d called it in after all, but if he was in some way connected he would be far from the first person in that situation to be the one to call the police. Hooper spoke as Robbie came near,

“Oh, sir, this is Mr Mansfield who found the body, sir,”

“Thanks,” Robbie replied, “Mr Mansfield, can you tell me what happened?”

“I just saw him there,” he said, “I was walking along and I could see him there. I didn’t think it was a person at first, I really hoped it wasn’t, I really wanted to keep walking, but I couldn’t.” Robbie raised an eyebrow at that and he continued, “I didn’t know he was dead, thought maybe I could call an ambulance, and anyway, people shouldn’t be left like rubbish whatever happens.” This last was said with a slightly defiant air, Robbie made a mental note to come back to whether anything in particular had made Mr Mansfield feel so strongly about this.

“Did you see anyone else here?” Robbie asked,

“No, like I said I just saw him there,”

“What were you doing down here, Mr Mansfield?”

Even in the poor light Robbie thought he could detect a blush,

“I was just going for a walk,” he replied and once again after a moment he continued, “You must know what I was down here for,”

“Well,” Robbie replied, “I could make assumptions,”

“And I’m sure they’d be the right ones,” his next words were said hurriedly like he wanted to get them over with, “I was hoping to pick someone up, take them home, I don’t have to draw you a picture do I?” There wasn’t, Robbie noticed, much of a hint of defiance to the words, he didn’t seem to feel that what he’d been doing was wrong. _How things have changed_ , Robbie thought,

“No, no you don’t,” Robbie replied,

“I should have known by the fact that there wasn’t anyone around that something bad had happened,” Mansfield said, “Do you suppose other people saw him and just scarpered?”

“Probably, I’m afraid. Have you given your details to DC Hooper?” Robbie asked and when Mansfield nodded, Robbie continued, “You’re local, I take it?” Mansfield gave an address on the outskirts of the town, “Right then, you can go. We’ll contact you about giving a formal statement,”

“You won’t ring my work, will you?” 

Mansfield sounded genuinely concerned, and Robbie supposed he could understand why,

“No, we’ve got your mobile number?” Mansfield nodded, “Then, no reason not to use that, then, get yourself off home.”

A uniformed officer walked Mansfield away from the scene and Robbie turned to the Hooper,

“Did you run him through the PNC?” he asked,

“Yes, sir, the information he gave me checked out,”

“Where did he say he worked?” Robbie asked. Hooper glanced at his notebook, 

“Special school near Reading,” he paused for a second and then continued, “that’s a bit dodgy, isn’t it.”

“Not particularly,” Robbie replied, discouragingly,

“Well, you know what I mean, sir, him being around kids and him being down here…”

He stopped speaking when he took in Robbie’s expression,

“If you’ve taken any notice of your training, Alec,” Robbie said, “you’ll know that by far the greater proportion of abuse is not homosexual. Gay and paedophile are not the same thing.”

Walking back to the car Robbie was at least honest enough to wonder whether he’d have gone after that Hooper to the same extent a week ago or even two days ago.

 

Going back to the hotel had seemed like a straightforward idea when James and he had discussed it, but faced with walking back through reception and knocking on a hotel room door, Robbie found he was embarrassed. Finally he made his mind up to it, _I wouldn’t be bothered if James was a woman_ , he thought, and was surprised when he realised that if James had been a woman, the whole thing would never have happened. What that meant about him he refused to contemplate as he pushed the button for the lift.

Robbie knocked at the door, feeling conspicuous and trying to knock quietly, like that wasn’t a stupid idea. Muffled by the door he heard James’ reply,

“Is that you?”

“Who else?” he replied, wondering if that was a sensible question,

“Door’s open come in.”

He turned the handle and walked in to be confronted by James sprawled naked on the bed. Robbie’s doubts left him for the moment and he knew he was grinning,

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his voice low. James grinned,

“You too, except that you are wearing far too many clothes,”

“I can deal with that,” Robbie replied, and shrugged off his jacket before loosening his tie. James lay back and watched him intently in obvious appreciation. It made Robbie want to make a show of it, but his sense of humour stopped him doing anything particularly ridiculous. Nevertheless as he undressed his eyes most of the time locked on James he couldn’t help occasionally glancing down to take in the sight of James’ cock taking more and more notice. When he unfastened his flies and slid his pants and underwear down showing his own arousal, James spoke in a low rumble,

“Nice to know I’m not the only one, come here.”

Robbie complied, moving towards the bed and sitting down with his back towards James before twisting round and leaning down to kiss him before gently pushing him back and moving round fully. Robbie began to work slowly down James’ body kissing as he went, his ultimate goal obvious to both of them. When he paused, close enough to James’ cock that he knew that James must be able to feel his breath, James let out one deep, shuddering breath and Robbie took as much of him as he could into his mouth. 

This he’d done before, on his knees in a dark back street, moving from a quick snog to a slower grope, to hands pushing on his shoulders and his hands fumbling at a zip as his mouth watered at the thought. It was different tonight though. 

James filled his mouth and pure sensation filled his mind. As slowly as he could manage he pulled his mouth back up the length of James’ cock, looking up to see what effect he was having on James but his head was thrust back and every muscle was tense as Robbie concentrated on the head of James’ cock, sucking and tasting and hearing James moan obscenely as Robbie probed the tip of his cock with his tongue. That action really seemed to have an effect so Robbie continued, hearing James beginning to swear under his breath and start to move around, clutching at the sheet beneath him spasmodically. Robbie wanted to grin and let James slide out of his mouth to do just that,

“Don’t know what to do with your hands?” he asked,

“Know what I want to do with them,” James replied, holding Robbie’s gaze,

“I reckon we’re both thinking the same,” Robbie said, using the back of his hand to wipe his chin in a way he guessed was going to wind James up even more. James positively moaned and Robbie knew he’d been right. “I reckon if you spread your legs a little more I’d be able to get closer and you’d be able to put those hands exactly where we both want them to be.”

Robbie wiped the side of his mouth this time as James rearranged his long, long legs and then lowered himself down so that his chest was between James’ legs. He brought his arms up round James’ thighs and put his hands on James’ hip bones,

“Just,” he said, using his new position to place a sucking kiss on the base of James cock, “you,” he moved up slightly this time and did the same, “get,” he moved up again, “as grabby,” he was getting closer and closer to his goal, the kisses and the sucking getting harder, “as you want.” With that he again took James properly into his mouth.

“Fuck,” James cried out and Robbie hummed around the head of his cock. Then James’ hands roughly on his head, pushing him down as James tried to thrust up. Robbie felt like he was going to choke, but the feeling of being owned and used was heady. James relaxed his grip and Robbie moved up James’ cock, able now to get a clear breath and tease underneath James’ foreskin before his big white hands thrust him further down again. 

They were both moaning now, as they settled into a rhythm that slowly sped up. James’ strong hands on either side of Robbie’s head felt grounding and possessive and Robbie never wanted James to let him go. The pace was fast now and Robbie knew that without James controlling his movements he would never manage. James’ swearing which had been sotto voce was now becoming more vicious and louder, Robbie could hear James muttering about coming down his throat an idea that suited Robbie just fine and as he slid up James’ cock again he turned his head slightly and spoke,

“Do that, James, fuck my mouth, come down my throat, make me take it!”

James grabbed his hair even harder and thrust his head down as his hips went up and held him there for long seconds before Robbie could feel him convulse and feel his come spray into his mouth over and over.

By the time James had finished, breathing was definitely an issue and when James let go of his head Robbie had no alternative but to sit up quickly and gasp. It took a second or two but James seemed to come back to himself and Robbie could see the moment when he realised what he’d just done. Robbie knew that James was going to apologise, he could see the guilt beginning to assert itself and he wasn’t going to have that,

“Now, none of that,” he said as clearly as he could when he was still so breathless, “you haven’t done anything I didn’t want you to, that was fantastic and I won’t have you make it into something it wasn’t.”

“You can’t have wanted that,” James replied,

“Oh aye? Why not then? Did I not seem like I was enjoying m’sell? Do you really think I couldn’t have stopped if I’d wanted to? I may have a bit of a submissive streak, but that doesn’t mean that I’d let anyone do anything I didn’t like, not even you bonny lad, not even you.”

Robbie got up, aware that he still had a huge erection,

“Does this look like I was uncomfortable or not a willing participant?” he asked.

James seemed to take his point,

“No, that doesn’t look like you weren’t enjoying yourself.” James swallowed, “But it does look like you haven’t got off yourself yet. It does look like one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t be daft,” Robbie replied,

“I’m not being daft,” James said, “You’re a fucking marvel, Robbie, a complete fucking marvel and what I want, what I really want is to watch while you straddle my hips and wank yourself to completion because I want your come all over me.”

They finished up, after another late-night shower to get all the come out of James’ hair, with James snuggled up to his back, the lad’s right arm possessively holding Robbie, it was the quickest Robbie had fallen asleep in years.

 

Robbie expected to feel shattered the following morning, a late-night call out and unaccustomed exercise, but somehow waking up with James plastered all over his back made him feel, well, energised was he supposed the word. He was fairly sure that James was awake but to test his theory he pushed back against him, very slightly wriggling. James spoke,

“Is that an offer?” he said, his voice a deep rumble that Robbie seemed to feel as much as he heard it,

“I wish,” Robbie muttered, “but I’ve got to get to work.” He didn’t move though,

“Just a quickie?” James was asking but his hand was already moving down towards Robbie’s hardening cock,

“You’ll be the death of me,” Robbie replied, moving his backside against James’ erection,

“The feeling’s entirely mutual.


End file.
